


Partings

by LovelessLadyLazarus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, M/M, sorta (again), whoever you prefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23315860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessLadyLazarus/pseuds/LovelessLadyLazarus
Summary: Some of Theon's thoughts during and before Robb's wedding (not the red one).PS: I am aware Theon did not actually attend, but you saw the tags.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling, Talisa Maegyr/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Kudos: 20





	Partings

Theon didn’t cry at Robb’s wedding. He always knew it was coming anyway, what good is shedding tears over the inevitable? It was a good excuse, while it lasted, which is until around ten minutes after the feast, when he finally is left alone in the familiar darkness. He weeps. O how he weeps. Last summer’s rain had nothing on the boiling oceans that spew from his eyes. 

***

It is true; he had always known the day would come (even before he’d seen her) but knowing and living are two rather different things. A man could know there’d be a battle in the morrow, yet actually standing within that horrendous slaughter, tasting blood on your lips, of which you didn’t know if it was your own or someone else’s (perhaps an enemy’s, perhaps a friend’s); he wouldn’t blame any man for running. He himself was a coward at heart, but fought, because he had had something worth fighting for. 

***

She was all Robb desired, all he deserved. Beautiful and foreign (well for a Northerner who’d never left Winterfell, that is) and almost as otherworldly as he was. No one would ever transcend reality like Robb did, albeit she got perilously close, at least when Robb’s brilliant blue eyes were upon her. She embodied everything Theon was lacking; a good heart, a kind soul, someone worth fighting for. Years later Theon could recount every second of the flash, when Robb had first beheld her; he saw Robb’s world slow down and at that point, he knew he had lost the only thing in his life that gave it any semblance of meaning. Not that Robb comprehended, he simply stared. The sky overhead was crisp and blue (the colour of Robb’s eyes) and his breath came out like smoke. And somewhere in between Robb falling in love and a clear blue sky stood Theon Greyjoy, feeling the realm speed up. He couldn’t remember how he wound up vomiting his guts out somewhere south of the company that night. Yet when Robb held his shaking form and kissed him upon his ruined lips; promised him everything would be alright in the end, he almost believed him. At that point Theon could only thank the gods, he got to experience something as extraordinarily brilliant as Robb Stark before he relinquished his life. 

***

Robb still fell into bed with him almost every night, yet their lovemaking felt hollow and Theon knew he was just biting his time. He’d be a goner when Robb ultimately realised the true scope of his possibilities, you’re not King in the North for nothing. He’ll send me away Theon thought every morning, as he awakes alone into frigid autumn air, every midday as he sat eating, yet not at Robb’s side as was custom, every night, as Robb is bend over a makeshift table, a ponderous look clouding his glistening eyes. So, when Robb finally does fell asleep next to him, he simply stared up, wondering how far away the sea was. Because the sea was home, just like Robb had been once. He dared not look at him or he would bear witness of that boyish face, slowly turned sour and ashy with war. Other nights he supposed he should enjoy Robb while it lasts (what other soldiers are getting a good shag under these conditions?), but every night feels sloppy, passion turns into force (like autumn into winter) and for the first time in his life, he feels spoiled, a whore.

***

He decided to offer to leave, before Robb has a chance to send him away, he deserved that, a dignified exit. Their parting was inevitable; so why not go the simplest rout? Robb had never believed himself meaningful to Theon anyway. “You get off on it, don’t you?” he had asked him once, voice rough with passion “on knowing you’re fucking the King in the North”. He had appeared so smug, hence Theon had laughed, when really he should have kissed Robb like he meant it. In secret however, he spent the next few nights nursing the stinging wound in chest. He supposed it was inevitable for Robb too, if not in the way it was for himself.

***

He stayed for the wedding, what kind of friend (brother? What even was he to the great Robb Stark?) would he be not to? (the kind who you fuck in darkness only, teeth and tongues clashing in a hurry to quell any unfortunate sounds that may arise) She had displayed such meticulous beauty that fateful day, Theon was almost glad there was no curtain of tears to cloud his vision, clad in the incandescence of the northern sky on a clear day, yet even her brilliance faded in comparison to Robb’s. Perhaps he should pity her, that poor, beautiful woman, the world at her feet, yet always be outshined by her husband’s exquisiteness. Joy had oozed off of Robb, like slime of a slug, which somehow hurt more than anything that had happened before (even Robb telling him, he was just another notch in Theon’s bedpost). Guess it won’t be me, who seals the north’s fate, he thought bitterly, over his fifth drink. Good ahead and hate me Catelyn Stark, but know that it wasn’t me who took your precious firstborn son and thus broke a vow. I only took his innocence. Go ahead and hate me Catelyn Stark. 

***

He rode a few days later, never to see Robb again. The sky is blue like Robb’s eyes or that dress she wore at her wedding. There’s no tears, no glory, just a hand on his shoulder and a well-meaning smile. Later he will wonder if knowing would have made their parting sweeter, Theon certainly likes to pretend it would have, maybe Robb would have even kissed him, like he did back then, in all of Theon’s demented fantasies. Instead they get a parting as unceremonious and fleeting as the bond they both shared. 

When he hears of Robb’s death, he doesn’t even have the strength to weep.

**Author's Note:**

> I really do like Robb and Theon and want them to be happy, but, well I guess pain is just easier than happiness. Thank you for reading traveller, safe journeys and a good day to you.


End file.
